


Five Times Yama Was Oblivious (And One Time He Wasn't)

by Warfang



Category: Captain Harlock
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6195616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warfang/pseuds/Warfang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yama is oblivious to Harlock's feelings for him, but as time drags on, perhaps Harlock can bring himself to show how he feels to Yama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Yama Was Oblivious (And One Time He Wasn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Cinerari for yet again beta'ing my work! Go shower love on their works, they are awesome.
> 
> Also, I do not own and make no money from this!

Five Times Yama was oblivious and One Time He Wasn’t

 

First.

 

“Wait, it’s your birthday?”

“Well….” Harlock hedged, not wanting to divulge what the crew was congratulating him on.

“Oh, man, I remember my birthdays. They were a mess. The only part of the day I looked forward to was slipping away for a few hours with Nami so I could catch a nap. So, since I didn’t know to get you anything, if you want a break from the partying, I can give you a safe place to stay with some peace and quiet.” Yama prattled on.

“That…I do believe I’ll take you up on it.” Harlock murmured. Some alone time with Yama would be welcomed. Any alone time with the younger male, actually, would be preferable to the knowing looks shot his way as the crew walked by.

“Alright, just drop by anytime I’m at my work station and I’ll rig up a bed for you.” Yama sent a smile up at the taller man, before starting off.

A few hours later, Harlock swept into the room that Yama claimed as a partial green house. The plants were stacked few and far between, difficult to come by in the deep space. But Yama’s knack for growing plants prevailed against the starlight and some plants grew under his care.

Lying down beside Yama, Harlock watched him under the bright lights of the sun lamps in the room.

“Ah, Harlock. Do you think you could sleep with your head under the table? I, well, it’s the middle of the day for the plants right now, and I can’t just turn off the lamps.”

“Is it alright if I put my head in your lap?”

“What? I mean, yeah, sure, if you want to. Wouldn’t you want a pillow though?”

“Your lap will do. This way I’ll wake up when you have to leave and I won’t sleep too long.” Harlock waived away the offer.

Nodding, Yama turned back to the book he was reading at the table, his knees folded under him. Harlock removed his cape, turning it into a blanket before lifting the cover of the table up and sliding underneath.

“Comfy?” Yama inquired.

“Very.” Harlock answered. He closed his eye and slipped away.

Awaking to the sound of Kei asking if Yama had seen him, Harlock shifted under the blanket and moved his face towards Yama’s body.

Yama gave a slight hitch in breathing, which he covered with a cough.

“I don’t know where Harlock is; perhaps he went to his room?” Yama suggested to the First Officer.

“Maybe.” Kei’s voice was laced with suspicion, but then she turned on her heel and left.

Harlock exhaled, forgetting where his warm breath would be directed.

“Uh, are you awake?” Yama warbled out.

Sighing, Harlock snuggled closer. Just for a bit longer, let Yama hold onto him like this. The strangled silence above him was interrupted by turning pages. Harlock listed in his doze, knowing that each exhale was tracing the juncture between a friendly nap and certain other activities.

Sadly, it was not to last for long.

“Sorry, but it’s time that I got up.” Yama explained, running his fingers through Harlock’s hair, applying gentle tugs to rouse his captain.

Harlock gave a disquiet groan and removed his head, rolling back out from under the table.

“Thank you. I rather needed that.” Harlock admitted to the younger.

Yama smiled at him, a fleeting expression as he went about the room.

“Well, happy birthday, Captain.” With that, Yama left Harlock alone in the green house.

 

Second.

THWACK. The clipboard rebounded from Harlock’s head, as Daiba raced by, hooting a ‘Thanks Captain!’ as he escaped Yama’s wrath.

“Daiba!” Yama bellowed, before switching his attention back to Harlock. “I am so sorry Captain. I was aiming for the door prop to knock it loose and trap Daiba - he was in the green house again. Gaia, is it bleeding? Let me see.” Yama rambled on, tugging the tips of his gloves off before snagging them in his teeth and pulling.

Bare fingers traced through Harlock’s hair, searching for a hairline fracture or sticky warmth.

“Good, the clipboard didn’t hit you on the corner or side, but you’re going to have some swelling. Sit down; I’ll get an ice pack from the med bay.” Yama dashed off. Harlock placed a hand over the throbbing injury, far more stunned over Yama’s swift check up and unclothed touch of his head than of the clipboard braining him in the side.

Daiba would have a lecture about harassing Yama and his plants later, but for now, Harlock sat down in the side of the corridor.

“Sorry! I had to dig around the freezer a bit and grab a towel.” Yama pressed the ice pack to Harlock’s head, leaving his hand there to keep the cold pack in place.

Harlock slowly raised his hand and placed it over Yama’s still bare hand. “If I lay down with my head in your lap, do you think the pack will stay in place?”

“If it doesn’t, that would be a far more comfortable position to keep the pack in place anyways.” Yama gave him a worried smile, before switching from his kneeling position to better accommodate Harlock.

This time Yama stretched his legs out in front of him, and Harlock switched sides so he lay his head and stare down the length of those legs, the cold seeping through the towel and soothing the constricting blood vessels to prevent further swelling.

Yama prattled on about the Go games the other pirates hosted in the Eastern Hallway. If the clipboard had hit the door lock, Daiba would have detoured down the Eastern Hallway, coming upon the roadblock of Go games. Once he was picking his way through, or still attempting to rush by, Yama would have enough time to catch up with and punish him for insulting the plants.

“I swear, it’s either the dark matter or just plants in general, but they’re really responsive to how I talk to them. I don’t think they know to disregard what Daiba says, though.”

Harlock hummed, his eye slipping shut.

Moments like this with Yama…how could he go about having more of them?

 

Third.

“Ah, man, I can’t believe the heat conductor blew on most of the ship. It’s unbearable to sleep in most of the rooms,” Yama panted, peeling his remaining undershirt off. Now that the heat couldn’t be contained, it spread inside of the ship, causing sweltering temperatures everywhere.

“It’s either freezing or a freaking sauna in some places,” Daiba muttered. “At least your plants were off ship before this happened,” he grumbled.

Yama nodded, grateful his plants were off the Arcadia when the engine troubles started. The feeling of being suspected for sabotage wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Even after Daiba cleared his name by explaining that Arcadia repaired itself but didn’t clean itself, some of the men had still scowled at Yama, like it was his fault he cleaned his airlock station out of habit, thus creating an imbalance in the wires.

As it was, the incident alone had placed him in the epicenter of the explosion, nearly hurtling him out into space. Essentially, from what Daiba had found, the clean connectors in Yama’s fuse box required less energy for Arcadia to maintain, while the other’s had dirt build up. Instead of adjusting voltage, Arcadia had run the same power through Yama’s airlock, resulting in, well, the same thing that happened back at the Green House on Mars.

“All of you get to work cleaning! This ship will be spotless inside and in the electrical compartments! You all know how to work on a ship, get moving!” Kei barked out. Once the men scrambled out of hangar, Kei moved over to the two youngest.

“Yama, I’m sorry. But Harlock and I agree it’s best for you to stay in his quarters tonight.”

“What!” Yama startled from his seat at the announcement.

“Whoa, not because of what happened. The men won’t try anything since they were just upset and things sounded bad, but they were actually scared for you. However, your room is one of the worst; it doesn’t look like a room anymore. Harlock’s offering his place for you, until the men figure out how to properly apologize for even giving you the idea they thought you sabotaged them.”

Kei’s smile was sharp, and Yama nodded.

“You and Daiba can mark inventory. It sounds boring, but I think you’ve both had enough excitement for today.”

Kei stalked off, authority clanging with every step down the hallway.

Daiba held a hand out to Yama, who reached up and accepted the grasp.

“Thanks,” Yama called out.

“Don’t thank me yet. This ship is huge for a ghost ship. The inventory is going to take ages,” Daiba groaned.

“Really, Daiba. Thank you.”

Daiba dropped his arms from his stretch, tossing a look over his shoulder at Yama.

“You’re welcome.” They walked off, grabbing clipboards and heading towards the stock rooms and cargo areas.

Hours later, Daiba cried over his second hand cramp as Yama stretched out the fingers for him in the other hand.

“Alright, everything’s accounted for. Dismissed,” Kei barked.

“And Yama, go to Harlock’s room. He’ll bring you dinner. Daiba, you go see Dr. Zero about that hand.”

Nodding, the two scampered off. Daiba followed Yama until the junction before Harlock’s room, and then wandered off back to med bay in the opposite direction.

Yama wore a soft expression when he steps into Harlock’s room, but is brought up short when he saw Harlock in the room, hunched over a long table with a glass of wine in his hand. The Captain eventually leaned back upright, his cape tossed to the side, his clothes bending with his muscles and giving a very good idea as to how much of Harlock was primal force and how much was leather.

“Ah, Kei indicated I was to spend the night with you,” Yama stated. “Something about my room taking the worst of the blast.”

Harlock nodded. “I’ll bring you food from the mess. Stay here,” he ordered.

Yama nodded, stepping further into the room and collapsing into a chair. Harlock looked…thunderous as he swept his cape about him and headed off.

Yama shifted uneasily in his chair once the door closed.

 Surely Harlock was not angry with him?

Harlock stalked down the halls, his crew scattering before him. It had hurt, the thought that Yama had died when the explosion had gone off, that maybe someone was framing him for another betrayal. Yama was perhaps discredited by his past actions, but he pledged everything of his with blind devotion to a cause.

Perhaps not so blind anymore, Harlock reflected bitterly. The past hours had shown Yama didn’t follow Harlock as some bigger than life captain, some immutable figure that could not be bowed. No, Yama found him to be human, and grievously flawed.

Now Yama dwelled in perhaps the last place he wished to be, in close quarters with the same man, his captain, who had him thrown in the brig until the source of the explosion was tracked down.

Yama had insisted on his innocence and on helping out, but no one had listened. Harlock should have listened. He should have insisted that Yama was innocent until proven otherwise. Instead. Instead he had branded Yama a traitor again, showing how little faith in his doppelganger he held.

Yama surely hated him.

Harlock certainly loathed himself, unfit captain that he was. Yama had forgiven him many mistakes in the past, perhaps would have been right to kill Harlock on many occasions. But it remained that Yama chose to follow Harlock, that Yama placed his faith and his freedom in the hands of…of a mad man.

Harlock stilled his feet as his viewed the entrance to the mess hall. If this was to work, he needed to earn Yama’s forgiveness. He needed something to show he was sincerely regretting not listening to his botanist, when the Arcadia’s own astrophysicist had gone out of his way to prove Yama’s innocence.

Harlock stepped through the mess hall.

“Miss Masu. I’m going to need a rather specific dish for tonight.”

Hours dragged by before Harlock reappeared. Daiba had been by to visit after going to Doctor Zero, giving Yama the update on how the entire crew was making idiots out of themselves to earn Yama’s forgiveness.

“But it’s okay. We all panicked, and of course everyone was going to suspect me. I don’t have the best track record around here, even if Yattaran assures me that everyone has skeletons in the closet.” Yama affirmed. He blinked his eye at Daiba.

“Wait…the whole crew? I thought Kei was reserving judgment.” Yama added.

“That’s because Kei remembers you kicked her in the gut that one time. She’s convinced you’re sunshine and rainbows under all that sarcasm. And that there’s a man somewhere under my rage issues.” Daiba shot back.

He had made himself scarce thereafter, promising to keep a look out on Yama’s off-ship plants and to keep an ear out for any overzealous begging that might happen.

Yama turned to stare out of the huge windows in the back, watching the stars pass by. Sure, he understood why everyone had suspected him and thrown him in the brig without trial, but on the other hand, it had hurt.

Ezra did say he got attached too easily.

Harlock returned as Yama was getting ready to start snooping through the star charts and play ‘name that star’ out of the windows.

He held a tray with steaming food, and Yama’s stomach growled, announcing how long it had been since Yama had eaten, possibly two days ago.

Pausing at the sound, Harlock stared at Yama who pressed a hand to his stomach. “Sorry. Guess I forgot to eat during all of the excitement.”

Harlock nodded in acknowledgement before continuing to the absurdly long table. He set the table for two places, the dishes clanking as he set them out.

Yama bit back a question about pot holders and place mats, instead sitting down at the table. “Where’s Miime? I haven’t seen her at all lately.”

“She’s encouraging the Dark Matter to hold the ship together, along with repairing the air conditioning. She said she won’t be able to make it in tonight and to send her more booze.”

Yama startled a little. Surely Miime hadn’t asked with such a word? It sounded crass.

“Oh. Alright. Are we sharing the bed, or is a cot being brought in for me?”

“We’ll share the bed. The cots are already distributed throughout Arcadia for the men. There aren’t any to spare.”

“Oh.” Yama paused.

“Don’t worry, my bed is big enough for both of us. Unless you roll around in your sleep,” Harlock commented dryly.

“Ah, it’s worse than that. Daiba tells me I cling.” Yama glanced over the dishes, missing Harlock’s frozen expression. “Oh, wow, Miss Masu did an amazing job! Hey! That’s my favorite!” Yama grabbed the dish, pulling it closer to him, thankful that his gloves kept him from burning himself.

Glancing up to ask Harlock if he wanted any before he ate the whole thing, Yama noticed Harlock’s frown.

“Ah, if you don’t want me to cling, I could sleep on the floor.”

“No! No, it’s no problem. I hadn’t realized you and Daiba were so close. I thought he and Kei had a budding relationship.”

“What? No. Kei and Daiba are very much settling into a sibling routine. He wanted me to verify that for him since I’m the one that grew up with siblings, and he wound up staying the night. He says it was a nightmare to wake me up in the morning, but I disagree.  I wake up at the slightest thing,” Yama humphed. “Ah, sorry, did you want any?” Yama tilted the soup towards Harlock.

“No. Help yourself.”

“Yay!”

Harlock smiled, watching Yama dig into chicken soup with rice with abandon, manners barely withholding him from eating out of the pot itself.

Bread rolls were split and buttered, torn with white teeth and apple slices vanished with brisk crunches. Harlock turned back to his own meal, a bratwurst with cauliflower on the side and wine paired with the meat.

Perhaps more wine than he needed to imbibe this evening.

“Oh, shoot,” Yama mumbled down to his bowl.

“What is it?”

“I forgot to bring a change of clothes, but of course, there probably aren’t clothes of mine that survived the explosion.”

“You could wear a set of my clothes,” Harlock blurted out. He subtly moved the bottle of wine away from himself.

Yama’s face turned to him. “Really? Thank you!”

Harlock decided of all the things outlawed in this room, Yama’s face when smiling was something that had to be illegal. There was just no way something that bright could exist after the hours spent thinking that Harlock had turned his back on him.

“Oh, stop making that face. I’m not mad. Just a little hurt, is all. It’s nothing.” Yama waved away what surely must have shown on Harlock’s face, the grimace that Yama so easily beamed at him after the last two days.

Harlock’s fist slamming against the table surprised Yama.

“It is not okay,” Harlock snarled. “It is not ‘little’ anything for me to discredit you, to hurt you after all that you’ve done for us. It is my fault for your treatment, for allowing the men to drag your name through the mud and just forget everything that you’ve done, everything about who you are. I failed as your captain today, and that-” Harlock straightened up in his seat, returning his glare to his food, “that is something that I cannot accept. I’m sorry, Yama. I don’t know how to earn your forgiveness when I’ve so carelessly damaged our relationship.”

Yama eyed Harlock, his hands gripping his chair so that he wouldn’t bolt. Harlock’s rage, even self-directed, was frightening to behold. But he wouldn’t run.

He had to fix this.

“I…Harlock. I would have done the same. I thought you put me in the brig to keep me safe until we figured out what happened. But you did have reason to suspect I was the culprit- no, stop that, you did- out of everyone here, I’m the only traitor, and I was at ground zero when the explosion happened. I don’t hold it against you.”

Harlock growled and shoved away from the table, storming over to the window to glare out of it. After long minutes he turned back to Yama.

“I can’t accept your forgiveness. I was wrong, and I cannot forgive myself.”

“But!”

“No.”

Yama bit his lip. What could he say now to reach Harlock?

“I blamed myself for a long time after the accident. Ezra lost his legs, Nami was in a coma, an interactive hologram. I would do anything if it meant Ezra would forgive, if it meant I could have atonement. So I accepted a mission to kill a man in Ezra’s place.” Yama gave Harlock a knowing look. “It wasn’t the life for me. I hated being a soldier. I hated being good at turrets, at being the best marksman in my class. But I couldn’t let myself be anything less. I destroyed my sense of who I was, Harlock. Please, you made a mistake. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Harlock glared back out of the window. Yama fell silent, unsure of how to continue, what he could say.

“Alright. I…made a mistake. I hope you’ll forgive me one day, because I don’t know how to make it up to you. You’re so personal, Yama. I hardly know anything about you.”

“Ah, you know I like plants. I like pretty much anything to do with flowers. If you feel like you ought to show me your sincerity, plants are a great place to earn back my favor.” Yama smiled at Harlock.

“Alright,” Harlock replied.

“And tell me when you’ve forgiven yourself. I’ve seen how harsh you are with your own mistakes,” Yama instructed.

“Alright,” Harlock repeated.

“Good, now shall we head to bed, bath, or?”

“I think you need a bath first. Through there,” Harlock indicated, and then headed over to a dresser. “These should fit you.” He rummaged through the drawers for his smallest clothes from ages past as Yama stacked the plates, setting the dinner off to the side.

After collecting the change of clothes, Yama hurried through a shower so as to avoid falling asleep.

Harlock changed his own clothes.

He was going to share a bed with Yama, who apparently clung in his sleep.

If he wasn’t full of self-loathing at the moment, Yama’s virginity would have been in danger of a few gropes, disguised as a sleep grab.

As it was, when Harlock awoke early that morning to hair that smelled of his shampoo under his nose, with a body pressed against him, he had a rather understandable physical reaction that made him gently tear himself out of bed and throw himself under a cold spray of water.

Really. The range of emotions the younger male put him through.

 

Four

 

“I can’t believe we finally got a working Japanese style bath going on the Arcadia.” Daiba babbled happily.

“I can’t believe we have the time to use it.” Yama grumbled. He would love to relax in a nice bath, with some soft music, and his favorite oils, but no. He couldn’t take a bath alone given that Daiba deemed him overworked.

At least he had helped getting his back cleaned.

“Well, make time to use it. The universe is already ending, so why not take some time off and enjoy the days you have left?” Daiba retorted. “Now hush and relax, but don’t fall asleep.”

Yama scowled at the other boy. He was positive that while Tadashi certainly had the intellect to challenge him, the other male had a definite manner of appearing to be childish even after manning up. With a sigh, Yama sank into the bath tub, ignoring the widening grin Daiba had about winning this round.

No wonder Harlock tried to put them on different bridge shifts.

Yama leaned his head back, starring up at the ceiling. Wisps of steam floated by, the rumbles of Arcadia shaking the room. Silence fell, and Yama found himself drifting off.

A splash to his side brought him back. Reaching under and over, Yama grabbed Daiba’s bicep and hauled the spluttering pirate back to the surface.

“If you’re going to fall in, now’s the time to dry off and get out. Send someone else to keep me company.” Yama dryly suggested. Knowing Daiba, he’d ask Kei to come baby sit him.

“Yeah, sure.” Daiba made a few interesting coughing sounds, but nevertheless climbed out of the tub and left.

Yama stretched out. Maybe he would have a few minutes on his own…

“Really? I’ll keep him company then, I just finished my shower.”

Or not.

Sighing, Yama sunk into the water until he was level to his nose. The new occupant entered.

“It’s been awhile since I stepped into the baths. Mind if I join you?” Captain Harlock requested.

Yama gestured to the spot vacated by Daiba a few minutes earlier.

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

Harlock wrapped a towel around for modesty, before climbing into the tub.

Not that the leather he wore left a lot to the imagination, but Yama found himself peeking at the length of scarred flesh and muscles as they slipped under the water.

“Jasmine?” Harlock questioned.

Yama nodded. “Daiba set the whole thing up to help me unwind. Personally, I’d rather have some music and be alone, but he was scared I’d fall asleep and drown. Not like our Arcadia would allow that.”

Harlock nodded. He stretched out under the water, before giving it a considering look.

“I suggest putting your hair up before you try to float in it, Captain.” Yama advised, knowing the expression of a man weighing his options before doing whatever he decided.

Harlock shot him a withering look. “I am not young enough to do something so juvenile. I was just wondering if I could read while taking a bath. I’d much rather prefer reading while soaking to just soaking.”

Yama hummed. “We could try talking with each other. But that’s funny. I like listening to music, you like reading. Both are activities not widely pursued in the bath- watch out!”

Yama lunged forward to grab the white orb before it vanished into the water.

“Ooops.”

Harlock lifted his head to glare at Daiba.

“That’s a bath bomb. Enjoy,” Daiba explained, before escaping the bath.

Yama sighed, returning to his previous spot.

“I am definitely going to smell like jasmine now. So, how goes the crew?”

Harlock watched the glitter spread out from the orb.

“They’re doing better. Kei is still strong arming anyone and everyone late in begging your forgiveness. Mostly because they’re scared you won’t forgive them.”

Yama stretched out, before angling his head to glance over.

“And what about you?” The words gently slipped from his lips.

Harlock paused.

“I truly failed you. I doubted you, Yama. First I was terrified you had died, then I was terrified that you had betrayed us again. I don’t understand how you can trust me. I know I wouldn’t.”

Yama shrugged.

“My only brother sent me on a suicide mission with no hope to succeed or room to fail. And even when he pointed a gun at me, I still couldn’t bring myself to shoot him. I loved him. I was willing to give anything if it meant he and I could repair our relationship.” Yama’s mouth twisted in a semblance of a smile. “But it didn’t happen. Instead, I landed on a path I didn’t think was possible at all. Now I’m co-piloting the most feared ship in existence, while still finding time to relax in an oddly shiny version of a bubble bath.”

Harlock remained silent.

Silence fell between the two, Yama struggling to find words, and Harlock wondering if he deserved forgiveness. He felt as though he had destroyed Mother Earth all over again.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Yama breathed out.

“The glitter adheres to your skin no wonder Daiba ‘oopsy-daisy’ tossed the orb in! I’m going to move everything in his lab over two inches! See how long it takes him to notice,” Yama grumbled. He rubbed at his forearm and chest, before rubbing more.

“But my skin does feel nice, so maybe I won’t. Here, feel. It’s really soft.” Yama extended his arm out to Harlock.

Harlock stared at the glistening limb, before reaching out a hand to trail his fingers over the flesh offered.

“It’s…very soft. I wonder what it’ll do with my scar tissue.”

Yama chuckled.

“I have no idea. I guess we’ll both find out.” He stretched more, feeling the heat sink into his muscles and leaned back.

Silence fell between the two again.

“What kind of books do you read?”

“What music is to your taste?”

“Ah.”

“Sorry, you go.”

“No, you first.”

“Yama.”

“Harlock,” Yama drawled, slow and lazy. “It’s not like we have anywhere to be in five minutes,” he teased.

Harlock huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Yama’s eyes traced how his muscles and scars flexed, the outline of his captain from the side.

Harlock turned and looked back at him.“I prefer Wagner, and most classical music. But some operatic rock does appeal to me as well.”

“Really? I would’ve thought you’d have some country or blue grass or free spirit music in your collection,” Yama replied in a dead pan tone.

Harlock glared. But his lip twitched.

“Wait, you do!” Yama exclaimed.

“It’s not extensive, but yes. I do have some. It’s in there, along with some music Tochiro prized from his ancestral home, Japan.”

Yama nearly launched himself over to Harlock.

“You have- is it the drumming ones, I love those-but the flute as well- are any of them from period dramas- or are they from concerts- I’ve got nearly all the copies of the ones that involve pianos, don’t ask why those survived- but the ones with a Koto in the performance, also my favorites- oh, please, won’t you share them with me?” Yama babbled.

Harlock put both hands on Yama’s shoulder and pushed the younger out of his face.

“Calm down. I can show them to you tonight. We could listen to a few together.”

“Please!” Yama sang, before relaxing and leaning further away, giving Harlock more space in the bath. “And thank you. I knew my father hailed from Japan from my mother, but she didn’t have time to share his culture with me. She worked too much. About any time I managed to share with her was from my helping her in the garden, since my hands were so small.”

Harlock gazed at Yama, taking in his happiness and enthusiasm, wondering where he could have gone so wrong to have doubted Yama a second time.

But then again, things had gone wrong with him a long time ago, hadn’t it? He had changed so much. There was once a time he would have killed Yama on sight. Either for following his brother, or because he had pointed his gun at Harlock twice. Both times would have saved Harlock from having to deal with a time waster.

And now, now it felt like being around Yama…pieced back the old Harlock and forged him into something new.

It wasn’t until Yama pointed at Harlock’s hand still on his shoulder that Harlock came back to himself.

“Sorry, just wondering what wine to pair with the music.” He bluffed. He removed his hands, but noticed that Yama now sat closer than earlier, and the bath bomb had blanketed the entire tub with glitter, and Yama looked like the cosmos were now painted onto his skin.

Harlock felt the urge to trail constellations together with his tongue, before wrestling the emotion down.

He had hurt Yama. He had broken what small trust had risen between them, and now Yama spent nearly all his time in Daiba’s company, once his room was fixed.

“How are you and Daiba getting along?” Harlock asked, changing the subject.

“Don’t ask,” Yama grumped. “We get along about as well as we’re going to, which is why you keep giving us different bridge rotations, right?”

Harlock paused.

“Not on purpose.”

“Ha! You are doing it intentionally!” Yama crowed. “Daiba owes me three hot chocolates!”

Harlock blinked. “He does? Wait, I thought you two weren’t close.”

“We aren’t. But he was the only one to determine what really happened, if out of spite towards me, and we’ve improved over the past few weeks. It’s more of a tolerance built through exposure. He’s like the annoying cousin you can’t believe your parents think should be your best friend, but just makes life difficult.”

Harlock relaxed some more.

“Yama, I….” he stopped himself. What would he say to Yama that could even begin to convey how he felt about betraying Yama? Probably nothing like what Yama felt like when he betrayed Harlock for the good of humanity.

“I haven’t heard what kind of books you like to read yet,” he finished.

Yama beamed.

“Oh, I read all kinds of genres, but my favorites are bodice rippers.”

Harlock shot Yama a look to find the younger male grinning at him. “Oh really?” The captain replied dryly.

“No, not really. But we had this game, back on the Gaian Warships, were we’d pass a book around and you had to hand the book off if you stumbled in your reading. There are some things I’ve read that have made me question the general state of the human race. The books tended to be the bad romance kind that no one would confess to being the owner of,” Yama reminisced.

“But my favorite kind were mysteries. I loved trying to figure out who did it, and if what they did really merited killing someone over. I could stay inside a book for weeks, especially after my mother died. I couldn’t stand being in the garden without her, and Ezra was busy prepping for military academy. It seemed like no one had time for me. Except for when I inside a book, time only melted away inside of one.”

Yama smiled.

“It’s also what kept the relationship between myself and Nami going. We’d read the same books and catch up on them. It hurt less to do that.”

Yama’s gaze was distant, lost in memories that had eluded him in the mess of running the Arcadia.

Harlock nodded, allowing the silence to fall between them.

When the water began to chill, Yama left, prompting Harlock to leave as well. Even after toweling off, the glitter remained.

Yama shook his head, before dressing himself and headed out.

“So, tonight at your cabin? I’ll be there,” Yama informed Harlock before sweeping out to the hall way, leaving Harlock to fumble with his belt buckles.

Right. He was about to be in very close quarters with Yama tonight.

He needed to sort his brain out.

 

Five

Yama dropped by after dinner, bringing an old recording device, presumably with the few songs he did have. Harlock made a note to fetch Yama a better device and upload the songs onto it.

He began the evening by showing Yama the discs the music was stored on, some fifteen discs, and Yama exclaimed over the ones he had heard about, and inquired about the new ones.

Harlock fielded his questions as he chose a red wine to share for the evening.

Yama lounged in the chaise Miime tended to occupy while Harlock set the music to play. While they enjoyed the music and the wine, Miime drifted through at one point, helped herself to wine, and drifted back out.

Harlock watched Yama more than he heard the music or tasted the wine. The young male shimmered under the lights, his skin catching the light and glowing thanks to the bath bomb from earlier.

Harlock looked upon him, and felt the music climax, watched Yama’s bright eyes as he sipped the wine and smiled, listening to the flute rise and fall, before dancing away on notes through the air.

Yama was important to him. So much more important now that Harlock had cracked their relationship and wanted to make amends.

“Yama, I…” Harlock started as the disc ended. “I wanted to say to you, I should’ve said this a long time ago, when I first transgressed against you, but I have to say, that I am sorry for doubting you. I never should have done so.”

When no response came, Harlock waited.

Yama blinked slowly.

“Harlock, of course I forgive you. I think I forgave you minutes after you threw me in the brig, because if I had been in your position, I don’t think you would have been alive after I reached you. I had to look at how the facts played out. What scared me the most in the end, is that it was Daiba who went and found the evidence, had to give it to Kei, and then I was freed. You just…vanished, after I was in the cell.”

Harlock nodded.

“I was in engineering, trying to determine if there would be a second explosion, if we needed to evacuate, and Tochiro was trying to shut off the fire. I didn’t have time to think about you.”

Yama smiled, a small, shy thing he hid behind his wine glass.

“Harlock, I hope this means you’ve forgiven yourself after all these months. That would make me happy, if you’d let go of your mistake.” Yama sipped his wine, a faint blush beginning to creep across his face.

Harlock opened his mouth several times before shoving his glass into his mouth and downing the whole cup.

He repeated the action of drinking the wine like he had seen his men doing shots while trying to clear his mind.

It wasn’t very conducive, but Yama cared. About him. Yama had forgiven him.

“What…what did I ever do to earn your forgiveness?” Harlock whispered into the room. The faint static of the music player is on the edge of his hearing.

Yama walked over, placing his now empty wine glass on the table.

“You’re you, Harlock. And I want to get to know you more than just as a fearsome pirate.”

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe Yama truly was some oft forgotten angel, not that Harlock put much stock in any creed or belief other than himself, but Yama, in this moment, caused Harlock to weep.

Harlock wept that Yama would absolve him of his sins, and that Yama would continue beside him. Perhaps there was a future for him, a future for them.

Harlock reached out, his gloved hand brushing over the smooth skin of Yama’s cheek.

Yama didn’t question Harlock, merely leaned into the touch.

“Shall we continue this in the morning, Harlock?” Yama queried, his voice low.

“Don’t leave.” Harlock whispered, his voice faint. “I can’t have you leave me.”

Yama’s eye widened, and then he nodded.

Harlock fell asleep to the feeling of Yama pressed against him, their night clothes arrayed to avoid any intimate touching.

In the morning, he would sort this out.

Plus One

 

Yama awoke to Harlock running his fingers through his bangs.

Moaning, he butted his head up against Harlock’s hand, making soft encouraging noises. The smell of gunpowder and wine clung to the pillows, with a third smell Yama understood to be the dark corners of Arcadia, perhaps the smell of Dark Matter that clung to Harlock.

“So, what do we do now?” Yama murmured, face still pressed into the pillow he had claimed.

“Well, I was thinking we had to show up on the bridge at some point.” Harlock vaguely hummed as he trailed his hands through Yama’s hair. So soft, it reminded him of another time he wished he could have ruffled the hair of the man beside him.

But he had lost that allowance then.

Yama giggled.

“I meant, us. Our relationship, where do we go from here?” Yama clarified.

Harlock stilled. It was too soon, wasn’t it? But after waiting for so long….

“I mean, I may have been oblivious for a long time, or maybe I’m thinking this up, but Captain…” Yama twisted, his good eye peering up at Harlock, “I don’t think just anyone wants to run their hand through my hair, yes? So, what does that make us?”

Harlock felt his breath catch in his throat.

“I want you. I want you forever and always, Yama. But that’s such a huge commitment. I want you for the rest of your lifespan, and I don’t know if it’ll even match mine. I want to make sure that it does, and I’m terrified how a life of immortality may change you. It certainly changed me,” Harlock rasped, his voice closing from emotion.

He did want Yama, but could they face the imaginable horrors together? There would be no end to the Captain Harlock role. He would damn them both.

A finger tracing the scar on his face startled him out of his thoughts. “It’s not just us. We’ll have Miime, the Arcadia, and all of our friends who come and go too.” Yama smiled. “And this time, you’ll have me, and I’ll have you. I think we’ll both do a good job of being Captain Harlock. You are here and still alive for whatever reason you want, Harlock.”

Harlock felt the warmth in his breast begin to trickle out, feel the optimism he had long since discarded when Gaia turned and he burned the Earth in his fury.

Around Yama, with Yama, he truly felt like he was returning to his old self.

“Yama, I want to do right by you. We’ll get married,” Harlock decided.

Yama swatted him. “Boyfriends first. Besides, you killed my brother. Who’s going to walk my down the aisle? Kei?”

Harlock rubbed his side where the open palm connected, grateful Yama hadn’t used his full strength. While he still paled to Harlock’s strength, he was growing stronger.

“Yes, boyfriends will be a good place to start,” Harlock agreed. “But I am keen on the idea of us getting married.”

Yama interrupted by leaning over and kissing him.

The door to the Captain’s quarters opened.

“Rise and shine it’s breakfast time!” Daiba sang out. “And no one’s seen you two since dinner last….night….” He trailed off. “My eyes!” He shrieked.

“Daiba, out!” Harlock barked.

“You don’t have to tell me twice! Ah, Miss Masu, I think they will eat in the galley after all…”

“Nonsense, they needed to be there already….well, congratulations Captain Harlock. I’ll just leave your breakfast on the table.” Miss Masu called over.

Yama thumped his head back into the pillows. Nothing seemed to surprise the old woman.

After dressing and breakfast, Yama and Harlock faced the crew head on. There were many backslaps and congratulations to the Captain.

“Sheesh, they’re partying more than on your birthday,” Yama muttered.

“Birthday?” Kei asked. “It’s not the Captain’s birthday yet. Won’t be for a few more months.”

“Then what were you congratulating him about those months ago? Everyone was stopping him to talk with him for a few minutes. I thought that was his birthday.” Yama inquired.

Kei covered her mouth.

“No, that was the day Captain realized he wanted to pursue you in a relationship. Even Daiba knew it before he did. We were all glad that he would finally start making a move on you. It’s been suffocating on the bridge, what with him constantly staring at you and sighing from time to time,” Kei elaborated.

Yama hummed.

“Well, I’ll have to do something special for him, since last time I could only offer him a nap,” he mused.

Harlock passed by the helm, putting a hand over Yama’s and tilting the angle just so a few degrees.

“There,” he announced, before retreating to stand just behind Yama.

“So, Captain, what do you want to do to celebrate your birthday?” Yama asked, his face innocent.

Harlock glanced at him and his cheeks heated.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He coughed.

Kei tittered from her station.

“But for now, let’s sail on to the next adventure.”

“Aye, Captain,” Yama replied.

~fin

 


End file.
